Ochil Idylls and Other Poems by Hugh Haliburton [i.e. J. L. Robertson] |
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AULD FERMER'S ADDRESS TO THE
“PRODIGAL” SUN,
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 | Ochil Idylls and Other Poems |  |
45
AULD FERMER'S ADDRESS TO THE “PRODIGAL” SUN,
WHA CAM' HAME IN SEPTEMBER AFTER WEEL NEAR SAX MONTHS' ABSENCE.
Scene—The middle of a half-cut field—Auld Fermer in a sleeved waistcoat, liftin' the fa'en sheaves, an' biggin' the blawn stooks.
Hoo daur ye blink upon the stooks
That wadna shine upon the grain,
But left us to oorsel's for ooks,
Or the waur company o' the rain?
That wadna shine upon the grain,
But left us to oorsel's for ooks,
Or the waur company o' the rain?
We did oor pairt; we teel'd the laund,
An' cuist oor corn into the yird;
We micht wi' profit held oor haund
Wi' you, an' wi' your broken wird.
An' cuist oor corn into the yird;
We micht wi' profit held oor haund
Wi' you, an' wi' your broken wird.
Noo that the sizzen's owre ye haste,
Wi' fogs an' cranreuch i' your train,
Thinkin' to share the shearer's feast—
Gae to the launds ye ca' your ain!
Wi' fogs an' cranreuch i' your train,
Thinkin' to share the shearer's feast—
Gae to the launds ye ca' your ain!
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Swith to the launds that had your lauch,
An' sorn on them for horn an' spune;
It's no' for you the fatted calf,
It's a' for you the pair o' shoon!
An' sorn on them for horn an' spune;
It's no' for you the fatted calf,
It's a' for you the pair o' shoon!
Nae robe—as you may weel suppose;
Nor ring—'faith, that wad be a sham!
Unless I had it i' your nose
To lead ye back the gate ye cam'!
Nor ring—'faith, that wad be a sham!
Unless I had it i' your nose
To lead ye back the gate ye cam'!
We've managed in a kind o' wey
Withoot the favour o' your face;
We've raw'd oor neeps, an' made oor hey,
An' towl'd amang the weet like beass!
Withoot the favour o' your face;
We've raw'd oor neeps, an' made oor hey,
An' towl'd amang the weet like beass!
Look whaur your wark negleckit lay,
An' meditate what micht hae been;
But dinna think to mend the day
By blinkin' for an hoor at een!
An' meditate what micht hae been;
But dinna think to mend the day
By blinkin' for an hoor at een!
Look on the weary-waitin' craps
That ne'er will come to hervest-hame—
On stookit strae wi' scowther'd taps,
An' skeps that canna turn the beam.
That ne'er will come to hervest-hame—
On stookit strae wi' scowther'd taps,
An' skeps that canna turn the beam.
47
We've dune withoot ye in a kind,
We'll dae withoot ye better yet;
Whaur promises are no' to mind,
There disappointment's no' to get!
We'll dae withoot ye better yet;
Whaur promises are no' to mind,
There disappointment's no' to get!
We'll gang for girse an' craps o' green,
An' get oor laids o' corn abroad;
We'll dae withoot ye, morn an' e'en,
Sae—ye may turn an' tak' the road!
An' get oor laids o' corn abroad;
We'll dae withoot ye, morn an' e'en,
Sae—ye may turn an' tak' the road!
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